Wire mother had kept staring out the window even as Eden let go of her gangly hand and excused himself. Mute, with sunlight reducing her to an abstract silhouette, mere stiff shapes. His exaggerated smile lingered on his face even with his back turned. Now, staring down father's newly returned shoes on the rack, no trace of it remained. Eden's own shoes were nearly the same size now, a fact he unconsciously notes with each time he happens to look. Shuffling is heard from the kitchen. Eden concludes his noting, turns to the kitchen door behind him, and pushes it open, less apologetically than he did with wire mother's. He already knows what to expect, after all. In the presence of his father, a room's air does not change in the slightest upon Eden's arrival. Remaining stagnant, dead, as in
